The Death of a King
by ChaoticInsaneDreams
Summary: One story ends, another begins. Through it all however, there is Merlin.


BBC owns everything except the stranger. He's mine :P

Sometimes he forgets what day it is, what time of year it is and that he is now the King. Granted, he isn't even officially been coronated yet, but it seems like he has spent far longer than a day and a night by the King's death bed. On some base level he realizes that winter is snapping its jaws, eager to take the new king as well as the old one. The hardest part of all this, Arthur realizes, is that he should feel worse. But he doesn't.

He still feels sorrow for the mother he never knew, for the woman that so many of the older generation has told him he favors. But for some reason, he cannot find it in himself to mourn for the death of the man that supposedly raised him. And _that_he is sad about. Here he lay, the man who had raised him a Prince, groomed him from the start to be a copy of himself. Here lay the man that had constantly pushed him harder and never praised him for his successes. Here, lay the man who would have killed his love without a second thought. That sparked some warmth within his veins,his anger trying to break through the frozen shock that had taken over, like any thought of Merlin in trouble always did.

His anger at the thought, that anyone would dare hurt _his_ Merlin always sent him to a rage that made him feel invincible, like he could strike down entire armies lest they dare get to his better half. How anyone could have any desire to hurt Merlin, the most caring and warm and loyal person he had ever known, was beyond his understanding. And yet, before today, they had both lived with the fear of discovery, looming over them. He knew what the people called the man that had sired him. _The Butcher of Camelot, Tyrant, The Mad King_. It was whispered in the same hushed voice used to talk about sorcery and carried the same punishment. The anger began to freeze once more. He may have slaughtered countless innocent people, but Arthur knew his Father had never seen them as innocent. He honestly thought he was protecting those he loved. Could Arthur honestly say he would act differently?

He tried, for a moment to think of a future where Merlin was taken so cruelly from him and stamped down quickly on the thought, unable to even think of such agony. Yes, he could very clearly see how Uther had become the monster who had died alone in his sleep.

The doors creaked open, echoing down the silent hall. It was strangely fitting that there would be no mourner for the passing of Uther Pendragon. Arthur did not look up as the footsteps slowly grew louder, somehow knowing who it was. The delicate click of heels would be his sister, someone else who had lived in fear during his father's reign. It had surprised them all, Morana most of all, when they discovered she had magic, but they had banded together to protect her secret. The muffled scruffing of boots that nearly masked Morgana's footsteps he knew without a doubt was Merlin. Funny, he didn't know when his heart learned the sound of his approach but it was there now. He turned around slowly with a sigh, acknowledging the two people that were his true family when he froze. They had brought visitors with them, Morgana's maid and all of their friend, Guenevere, and some stranger that looked about as broken as Arthur currently felt. He frowned slightly, trying in vain to put on the mask of royalty, but it was of no use. He was too upset over not being upset at his father's death to fake any other emotions.

"Merlin, Morgana. How may I help you." It wasn't even a question, was just going through the motions he knew he should, and internally he frowned at his own rudeness. Merlin and Morgana continued to walk towards him until they had engulfed him in a hug and he sagged slightly against their support. Finally, he was beginning to thaw. When they let go, he noticed that Gwen and the stranger had hung back, Gwen trying not to let her worry and sadness for him show and the stranger simply standing there, staring blankly in front of him. Maybe he was an invalid they had picked up. Merlin always was a sucker for the pity cases. Merlin took his hand and the softness of it all snatched the curiosity from his mind.

"Arthur...I know you're not okay so I won't bother asking, but tell me what I can do to ease your pain and I will." The honesty in his voice nearly broke him. He wished he could somehow tell Merlin what was going on, but he never had really been good with words. Arthur sat down slowly, Merlin following him to the ground, the King resting behind him. Ironic that they could act so open now.

"I'm not sad," he said softly, and Merlin shot him a disbelieving glance. "No, really, I hate to say it, feel like a horrible person for thinking it but I hold no sorrow that he is dead. And for that reason I am a little sad. But...I just can't bring myself to be sad that someone who would have killed you and Morgana is dead. It's horrible and psychotic but...its just how it is. I'm terrified to be King and know I'm not ready for this, but you're safe now, so everything will be okay."

Merlin leaned against him then, resting his head on Arthur's shoulder and was just _there_, somehow understanding that no further words were needed right now. They watched Morgana and Gwen talk quietly while the invalid, as Arthur had begun to think of him as, stood slightly to the side. Merlin sighed sadly at his side and somehow that caught the attention of the man, his eyes instantly jerking around until they found Merlin, sheer panic showing clearly. He jerked forward and Gwen went to grab him but Merlin shot her a look and she stopped, looking on worriedly. The man approached them, slow unsteady steps and Arthur tensed suspiciously. "Who is this man Merlin?" The man stopped in front of them and fell slowly to his knees in front of Merlin. He just sat there for a moment staring, Merlin taking it calmly in stride. Arthur shifted uneasily, going for the sword at his side before Merlin's hand on his halted him. The man blinked once, twice, before standing and going to stand by the side of Uther. Arthur followed his movements until a quick breath of relief from Merlin moved his attention back.

"He is the reason we originally came here, all of us together," Merlin said softly, keeping an eye on the man behind them. "We may have lost a King this day, but well our little ragtag family is also growing by one today. Thats my brother Arthur. I didn't-" he stutters slightly and Arthur pulls him closer, a new kind of shock growing within him. "I didn't think he was honestly still alive. Mum sent a letter with him saying he wants to compete in the tournament next week and that I should take care of him for a while."

"Can invalids fight in a tournament?" The question was out there before he could even think of not asking and the slight frown that he _felt _on Merlin's face that was pressed into the side of his tunic made him instantly feel guilty.

"Arthur," Merlin said with a slight sigh,"He's not an invalid it's just. Well, we've all gone through hard times, and apparently my brother just as much as us, if not more. We all need to heal, and maybe we can heal each other."

He hugged Merlin fully, thinking to the dead King behind him and the warmth of the family in front of him. Yes, they could heal, they could do anything as long as they were together.


End file.
